


When It Falls

by Writangel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anger, Artist Keith (Voltron), Bookworm Keith, Caring Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, Guitarist Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Is Trying, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith has Social Anxiety, Keith is too pretty, Lance (Voltron) in Denial, Lance is the glue that holds the team together, Lotor is a Creep, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not Canon Compliant, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Recovery, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Smitten Lance (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), in this fic Keith has a birthmark underneath his eye because I say so, lance's crush on keith is embarrassing, like really deep denial, takes place after seasons 1 and 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writangel/pseuds/Writangel
Summary: After defeating Zarkon, Team Voltron's spirits are high. The coalition is being assembled and the end of the war is in sight. But the arrival of Prince Lotor turns the tides of the war in favor of the Galra, and a tragedy occurs that threatens to split Voltron apart forever. Lance struggles to hold his team together through their pain, anger, and grief while Lotor's shadow looms over the universe."He thinks of Keith’s voice, slow and scratchy, his pale skin so soft-looking in the early hours of morning. Thinks about what it would be like to slip under the covers with him and hold him close. Thinks about the warmth of his clothes, the warmth of his head on his chest, hair tickling his nose and chin. His deep, quiet breathing in the silence.“Shit,” Lance says. “Fucking shit.”
Relationships: Keith/Lance
Comments: 14
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome to my first chapter fic. I have a lot in store for this, and this is an idea that I've had for awhile. I'll try to update as regularly as I can. I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr: @kakiral

Lance lands the blue lion on the desert planet’s surface. He grits his teeth with rage and frustration, standing up briskly from the pilot’s seat. Blue lowers her jaw and lets him out, almost seeming like she wants nothing to do with the absolute _hell_ that Lance is about to unleash on one hotheaded, impulsive, impatient, _stupid—_

Keith turns to him as he stomps over, ground shaking with the force of his feet. At least Lance likes to think it does. The red paladin fixes him with a glare, fingers gripping his helmet tight. Sand whips around them, catching in their eyes.

“What was that? We were supposed to work together!”

“I saw a shot and I took it.”

Lance tears his helmet off and throws it to the ground. The sand absorbs the sound, and Lance ignores the small bite of frustration. “So what? You could’ve been hurt! You could’ve gotten us _all_ hurt!”

The other paladins land, the black, yellow, and green lions touching down on the endless expanse of desert, the only thing breaking the monotony the huge (now exploded) Galra base.

“Why does it matter?” Keith says. “Everything obviously turned out fine!” He gestures angrily towards the fire and debris that used to be a Galra stronghold terrorizing the small planet of Tetraphon. The aliens there were a desert-dwelling species, similar to the Balmerans. Quintessence flowed through the foundations of their planet like a life force, the energy keeping the world vibrant and colorful. But once discovered by the Galra, the empire turned their planet into a shell sucked dry, the once energy-rich planet now barren and depleted. What used to be a jungle was now a wasteland. The planet’s inhabitants were turned into slaves, forced to steal away their world’s life source and hand it over to their oppressors.

After picking up on a distress signal, the paladins had touched down on Tetraphon with the goal to rid it of Galra presence forever. The plan was to split up into teams, Lance of course getting stuck with Keith. While Hunk and Pidge extracted intel, Shiro would cause a diversion so that the prisoners could escape safely. And that was Keith and Lance’s very, _very_ , simple job: oversee the evacuation and make sure no one gets hurt. Then the whole team would form Voltron and blast the base to hell. Easy, right? Except no. Instead of helping to fend off the Galra from the evacuating prisoners like he _should have_ been doing, Keith had targeted the powerhouse of the base, hitting it with a blast from Red that blew the whole thing sky-high. Which was all good and _fine_ , but what if he hadn't been able to get out in time? What would’ve happened if everyone else hadn't already gotten the hell out of dodge?

Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk walk over to them, faces dropping as they see that Keith and Lance are fighting. Again.

“It does matter! People could’ve been hurt—”

“Lance,” Shiro cuts in. “That’s enough.” Lance feels a stab of something ugly in his heart. Of course Shiro would defend Keith again.

“Sorry, Shiro,” he responds bitterly. “I was just explaining to Keith that he could’ve gotten us all killed.”

Keith gnashes his teeth together, hands curled tightly into fists. “I knew what I was doing!”

“That’s enough,” Shiro says forcefully, his voice giving the implication that his patience won't last forever. Lance drops it, but not before sending Keith the most petulant glare he can muster. Keith scoffs and turns away, walking back to the red lion. Shiro sighs. “Good work, team. Let’s head back.”

“Great teamwork,” Hunk mumbles to Pidge.

***

Allura isn’t happy to hear about Keith and Lance’s fight back on Tetraphon, and she’s even less happy to hear about Keith’s impulsiveness.

“What were you thinking?” She snaps. "The paladins of Voltron are supposed to work together. You are a _team_.”

Shiro looks at Keith solemnly, arms crossed. Keith refuses to meet their eyes, glaring off to the side of the observation deck.

“Leave us,” Allura says to the rest of the team.

 _Ha_ , Lance thinks, heading out. _Now Keith will finally get what he—_

“Not you, Lance.”

“Quiznack,” Lance curses under his breath, turning around.

Allura fixes them both with a hard stare, the rest of the team having scampered out as quickly as humanly (and alienly) possible to avoid her wrath.

 _Traitors_ , Lance thinks.

“You two need to learn to work together. This rift between you is making the team suffer, and it’s something we can’t afford. Something the _universe_ can’t afford.” She straightens up, fixing them with a harsher glare. “I won’t let Voltron fail because its paladins are acting like children.”

“She’s right,” Shiro jumps in, his voice softer. “Zarkon might be gone, but we know his son is still out there. We don’t know what Lotor is like or anything about him.” Shiro straightens up, eyes hard. “Voltron needs to be stronger and more unified than it’s ever been. We can’t risk destroying ourselves from the inside.”

Lance feels a rush of guilt. Shiro and Allura were right. Defeating Zarkon had been the hardest thing they’d ever done, and the fight wasn’t over yet. The so-called Prince Lotor was a threat that loomed at the edges of their consciousness, not immediate enough to panic about but too insidious to ignore. They were in for a fight and Voltron should be at its strongest, and instead Keith and Lance were fighting like they were 10 years old. It was like they hadn’t grown at all in the year they’d been in space. He knew that he owed it to his team to be the best he could be, and Zarkon be damned if he were the one to bring them down. Lance knew he messed around a lot, with Keith especially (what could he say? Pulling on his mullet was just too fun), but he cared about his team more than anything. Pidge was like a sister to him; Hunk like his brother. Shiro his space dad, and Coran his space….uncle? He had a soft spot for Allura, and he could even admit to himself that he didn’t hate Keith. He felt a fierce sense of protectiveness and love for them all, and he knew he would do anything for each of them.

“I’m sorry, guys,” he says, frowning at the floor. He resolves himself and looks up. You can count on me.”

Keith folds his arms, looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry, too. It won’t happen again.”

Lance looks over at him, brow furrowed. He was surprised that Keith was capable of feeling remorse. He turns to Allura.

“What he said, princess,” Lance says, grinning at her. Lance was serious when he said that he would play his part to keep the team together, but there was nothing in the rule book against a little joking and flirting. She fixes him with a flat look.

“How sorry are you truly, Lance?”

“As sorry as you want me to be,” he says, sending her a flirtatious wink. Keith glares at him.

“And you truly want to play your part in uniting this team?”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

She smirks at him, an evil glint to her eye. Lance feels a flicker of worry in his chest, shit-eating grin faltering. Maybe he shouldn’t have messed with her, but hindsight is 20/20.

“Very well,” she says. “What I think you two need is a bonding exercise.”

***

“I hate you,” Keith says. Lance rolls his eyes.

“Tell me what you really think, Keith.”

After Lance’s well-timed “outburst” as Keith called it, Allura forced them on a mission by themselves, hoping to facilitate some much needed “camaraderie” and “partnership.” Shiro had called it a great idea, giving Allura the go-ahead.

 _The bastard_ , Lance thought.

Now the day after the attack on Tetraphon, Lance and Keith were sent to oversee the rebuilding efforts of the planet’s civilization. Which is something Lance is totally down for any day of the week. Being surrounded by grateful, indebted aliens treating him like a king? Nothing better! Except _Keith_ is with him. Keith, the impulsive, asshole, _jerk_ who got them stuck in the blistering heat in the first place. Damn Keith and his impulsive decisions. If he had just followed the _plan—_

Lance bends down and grabs another box of debris, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Seriously, this heat was awful. It almost felt like he couldn’t breathe. He lugs the box over his shoulder, winking at an alien who watched shyly. They duck their head, embarrassed, slithering off. “This is all your fault,” he tells Keith, who walks beside him with his own box, panting. Keith looks up abruptly, staring at him incredulously.

“What? My fault? You’re the one who flirted with the princess and got us stuck down here!”

Lance waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, right, that’s totally what happened.”

“Lance.” Keith grits his teeth. “You know what, never mind. I’m ignoring you now.” Keith sets his box down, wiping his sweaty bangs out of his eyes. Cheeks flushed, he closes his eyes for a moment before getting back to work.

 _Stupid Keith_ , Lance thinks, staring.

The day seems to get hotter as it drags on. The planet’s two suns beat down unforgivingly, Lance and Keith at this point having stripped down to their under-suits. Lance has unzipped the top half of it, revealing the white tank top underneath, now stained with dirt and sweat. While Lance thinks he might die from heatstroke, The planet’s natives don't seem to be having a problem. They happily slither around, their long, brown tails sweeping away bits of wreckage easily. Oh, how Lance wishes he were a scaly thick-skinned lizard thing. He takes a generous gulp of water before hefting a few wooden boards over his shoulder. He glances over at Keith, who leans on a dilapidated hut, hunched over, eyes heavy-lidded and turned towards the ground. He pants heavily.

“Taking a break, Keith?” Lance, calls to him, a smirk on his face. Keith looks up and scowls.

“You wish, Lance.” He straightens up, swaying a little as he does. Lance narrows his eyes.

“You alright, mullet?” The last thing he needs is Keith fainting on him. It would be such an inconvenience. Not worrisome at all.

“Why wouldn't I be?” Keith bites, walking off to help some aliens clear some debris.

“Forget I asked,” Lance mutters.

Hours tick by and sunset bathes the world in red. Lance finds it funny that Allura and Shiro sent them down here with the idea of bonding, but Keith and Lance have avoided each other at all costs. His smirk fades and guilt settles in. He knew that he and Keith do have to work through their issues (or just Keith through his), but it wasn’t his fault that Keith seemed determined to never get along with him. A voice deep and small in his subconscious calls out to him, and he forces himself to acknowledge it. He had antagonized Keith too, and the red paladin wasn't the only one to blame. Lance sighs. He would go over and apologize to Keith, the benevolent saint he is. Lance catches sight of him through the billowing sand, trudging over. Keith had tied his hair up into a ponytail that rested at the crown of his head, exposing the back of his pale neck. Messy, damp strands stuck to his cheeks and forehead, eyelashes casting shadows over his pale face. He seemed to be fanning himself with his hand, leaning on a work table. His cheeks were a bright red, and totally not distracting at all. Lance rubbed the back of his head, ignoring the warm feeling on his face. It was the heat. Yeah, totally that.

“Hey mullet, slacking off again?” He says. Keith glances over at him.

“Shove it, Lance,” he gasps, resuming his face-fanning. Lance narrows his eyes in concern.

“Seriously, man. Are you alright?” Before Keith can respond, an alien walks over to them.

“Paladins of Voltron, we thank you dearly for your help.” They say, their voice gravelly and slow, and somehow slimy. Lance gives it his most award-winning smile.

“No problemo, my man. We paladins just love spreading peace and merriment and all that.” Keith rolls his eyes.

“Thanks to you, our people can rebuild again. For the first time in years, you have given us hope.”

Lance smiles genuinely. This guy is a pretty cool dude, and Lance loves praise.

“So hot,” Keith mumbles from behind him.

“We’re happy to help,” Lance says. “Let me introduce you to my fellow world-saver over here,” he turns to Keith ready to motion him over, but Keith is swaying and his body is slanting off to the side, eyes closing, and _oh shit—_

Gravity pulls Keith downward and he crashes sideways onto a poor, unsuspecting work bench, materials falling to the ground with a loud clatter. He lands facedown, and Lance rushes over, crouching by his side and gently rolling him over.

“Keith, what the _hell_ are you _ok_?” Lance curses, looking frantically into Keith’s flushed, unconscious face. He slaps gently at his cheeks, trying in vain to wake him. “Earth to mullet man!” He says almost hysterically.

“Oh, _quiznack_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance develops a crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some fluff, friends.

Aliens have crowded around them at this point, and Lance is really starting to panic. Leave it to Keith to faint on a mission.

“What is wrong with the red paladin?”

“Is he ill?”

Ignoring them, Lance grabs his water bottle and empties it over Keith’s face. Coughing, Keith jerks awake, swatting at Lance with a weak hand.

“What the hell?” He mutters, eyelids fluttering.

_Great, he finally wakes up,_ Lance thinks. _I am so going to—_

Keith’s eyes blink open, squinting from the light of the suns, hazy and disoriented. The tiny birthmark beneath his right eye scrunches up, nearly disappearing in the shadow of his dark eyelashes. His purple irises fixate on Lance, violet and bright. Lance stares into them, something freezing him in place. Had his eyes always looked like that? A trickle of blood runs from Keith’s right temple down the side of his face, and Lance brushes the droplet away with his thumb, careful not to hurt him. He tucks his hand underneath Keith’s head, supporting him. Keith shifts, blinking.

“Lance?” He mumbles.

The sound of his voice snaps Lance out of it. Letting out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, Lance is suddenly keenly aware of the placement of his hand, the softness of Keith’s hair. Aware of the proximity of their faces, and aware of his other hand resting on Keith’s side, by his ribs that rise and fall gently with shallow breaths. He jerks both arms back with a squeak, Keith’s head falling and hitting the ground.

“Ow…” Keith mumbles, eyes closed again, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh, you’re awake, haha! Great to have you back, man!” Lance clears his throat and grabs Keith’s arm, helping him to stand up. He pulls his arm across his shoulder, supporting his weight. Keith leans heavily into his side, struggling to keep his eyes open. Lance adjusts his grip, holding Keith to him more firmly. He tries to ignore the press of Keith’s body against his. Addressing the aliens, he apologizes for Keith’s little episode.

“I’m just going to take my friend here home. No, he’s totally fine. Just being dramatic as usual if you know what I mean aha.” Lance lugs Keith to the Blue Lion, sitting him down in the corner near the pilot’s chair. Keith stares at him with an annoyed look on his face, but still too weak and out of it to do anything about Lance’s manhandling. Lance picks up Red in Blue’s jaws and heads back towards the castle.

***

As soon as the team sees the blue lion approaching with the red lion limp and unresponsive in its jaws, they hail Lance urgently. Shiro pops up on his screen, a look of worry on his face.

“Lance! What happened to Keith? Is everything ok?”

“Oh yeah, everything is fine” Lance says. “Keith just decided he felt like fainting today—“

“I didn’t _decide_ it—“

“Yeah, yeah, sure thing, Sleeping Beauty.”

“ _Thank you,_ Lance,” Shiro says. “Catch us up when you land.” He disconnects from Lance’s video feed.

_“Thank you, Lance,”_ Lance mimics. “Man he sure does dote on you, huh?” He says to Keith, who has become quiet despite Lance’s jabs. “Hey, you didn’t faint on me again back there, did you?” He turns back to look at Keith, who is looking away from him, cheeks red.

“What’s up with you?” He asks.

Keith is silent as the Blue Lion lands in her hangar and quickly scampers out. “Nothing,” he snaps, storming off.

Lance glares after him. “Oh, no problem, Keith. You’re totally welcome for saving you,” Lance says, stepping out of Blue’ open jaws. “Damsel in distress,” he says bitterly as he walks to the bridge. Pausing, he grins to himself. “Mullet in distress.”

***

When Pidge finds out Keith fainted, she doesn’t hesitate to tease him mercilessly.

“Cut it out, Pidge,” Keith says, jaw clenched. He stands rigid, arms crossed, a look of murder on his face. After Shiro and Allura had forced him to rest and cool down, he had re-emerged a few hours later in his black shirt and jeans, cheeks rivaling the color of Tetraphon’s suns. His right temple sported a small, white bandage from when he had clipped it on the workbench.

Lance hadn’t hesitated to tell everyone about how Keith had fainted, and how Lance had to valiantly carry him back to the castle (no praise necessary). Maybe Lance was trying to get back at him for not even saying so much as a thank you. Sue him!

“Was it a princess carry?” Pidge had asked, Lance shooting her a glare with enough force to melt her face.

After Allura and Shiro’s worries had been placated, they couldn’t help but smile at Lance’s story and laugh with the others. They had sent Keith to his room to rest, something that Keith _of course_ had a problem with. After Keith’s departure, Allura and Shiro had turned to Lance with looks of hope on their faces, clearly expecting him to tell them all about how he and Keith had become brothers down there and were now closer than two peas in a pod. Coran had jumped in excitedly, rambling on about how “of course they must be closer! Peril makes the heart grow fonder!”

Lance had snickered at that. “I guess it does, if you would call sunlight peril, Coran.”

Their faces had dropped at Lance’s tone, seeing that little had changed. Allura had walked off to the observation deck, her face set in a deep frown, Shiro following close behind her. Lance felt guilt twist in his stomach again. He knew he should’ve tried harder, but so could have Keith. He shoved it down.

Pidge takes one look at Keith’s face and bursts into another fit of laughter. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Sleeping Beauty,” she laughs. “How can I make it up to you? Shall I bring you some hot tea? Braid your hair?”

Lance walks over to them, chuckling. “Good one, Pidge.”

Keith glares at him.”You really had to spread that nickname around?”

Pidge stops laughing abruptly, staring wide-eyed at Lance.

“What are you talking about?” He says.

An evil smirk spreads on Pidge’s face. “Sleeping Beauty, huh, Lance?”

Lance looks at her, confused, before the implication of his words fall on him like an air conditioner falling out of a window. Heat shoots to his face and he knows he must be red as hell, but at least he’s not as bad as Keith.

“Yes, Sleeping Beauty, Pidge. Because he—quit looking at me like that!” He screeches.

“I’m going to go train,” Keith mumbles, running off.

Lance drags a hand over his face, trying to ignore Pidge’s shrieking laughter.

***

Lance can’t stop thinking about Keith. Turning over in his bed, he thinks about how close their faces had been, the deep violet of Keith’s eyes. Thinks about how he had stared at him, eyes so big that Lance could count the flecks of dark blue swimming around his pupils. Thinks about his messy black bangs tickling his cheeks, unruly, thick hair sticking up in all directions. Lance flips over again, flinging the blanket off with his foot. Thinks about how Keith said his name. The sweet, soft, sound of it, unsure and delicate. Flexing his fingers, he can feel the rise and fall of his ribs. Lance sits up abruptly, glaring at the wall with enough force to peel paint.

He was going to _kill_ Keith.

***

He knows what Keith was doing, ok? He knows exactly what. He's playing mind games with him. _No_ , Lance doesn't like Keith. That would be impossible. Keith is a gross mullet man and Lance’s rival. His rival! And that’s all he would ever be. What was happening was psychological warfare. Keith had chosen to faint because he knew Lance would help him, because Lance is just a good guy like that. He knew that it would make Lance worry about him, therefore, keeping Keith on his mind. Keith was only on Lance’s mind because he was worried about him. Worried he’d die in his sleep or something. Yeah, that’s right. And Lance wasn’t an idiot, ok? He wouldn’t let Keith get the upper hand that easily.

Lance stomps down the hall, not caring about how loud he's being. Making his way down the dimmed halls, he thinks about everything he is going to say to him, the stupid look Keith would have on his face once he found out his plans had been foiled. If he was going to try and stop Lance from getting any sleep, Lance would do the same. Stopping in front of his door, Lance knocks as hard as he can, too loud to ignore so damn him if he tries. After several moments of incessant knocking, Lance hears shuffling inside. The rustle of a blanket, the patter of bare feet walking across cold floor. Lance crosses his arms, ready to tell Keith everything he wanted to say, the words burning the tip of his tongue like acid. He taps his fingers against his arm and his feet against the ground, shoving down his anticipation and ignoring the feeling inside him that is excited for Keith to open that door. It slides open with a hushed sound, and Lance opens his mouth, ready to curse him out and no, he doesn't care who hears it. Keith stands there in the doorway, eyes squinting in the light, and Lance’s brain glitches.

Mind wiped clean like _tabula rasa,_ Lance stares openly. Keith rubs his lidded eyes, soft, purple irises catching the blue light. His bangs cover his forehead, fluffed up and messy. The rest of his dark hair is tied up at the crown of his head in a loose knot, and if he looks closely enough, Lance can just make out the white of the bandage. He wears a red sweater rumpled from sleep and wrinkled plaid pajama pants, and _no_ he doesn’t look inviting in any way. Keith yawns and peers at him.

“Lance, do you have any idea what time it is?” He mumbles.

Lance stares. Keith blinks at him.

“Lance?”

Remembering himself, Lance clears his throat. “Um no. I don’t—I don’t need anything—I mean uh yeah I don’t—I don’t know.”

He curses himself inwardly. _Way to tell him off, Lance._

Keith stares. “Then...can I go back to sleep?”

“Uh yeah,” Lance laughs. “Do whatever you want, man.”

Keith gives him one last confused look and lets the door slide closed again, leaving Lance standing, staring in the hall.

Slowly, he makes his way back down the hall. He thinks of Keith’s voice, deep and scratchy, his pale skin so soft looking in the early hours of morning. Thinks about what it would be like to slip under the covers with him and hold him close. Thinks about the warmth of his clothes, the warmth of his head on his chest, his hair tickling his nose and chin. His deep, quiet breathing in the silence. What would it be like to wrap my arms around him? Lance wonders. He thinks about the sunlight creeping in somewhere back on Earth, patches of light catching in Keith’s hair and eyelashes. Those beautiful eyes opening and blinking, meeting his. His mouth curving upward, fixing him with one of those rare smiles. Lips parting to wish him a good morning, Keith moving closer to—

“Shit,” Lance says. “Fucking _shit_.”

He is _so_ fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave comments or kudos if you liked it :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The paladins get ready for a ball.

So maybe Lance does like Keith a little bit. It’s not like he committed a crime or anything! But this newfound revelation of his becomes harder to ignore with each passing day. He can’t help but stare at Keith over breakfast as he eats his food goo, leaning his head on his hand and blinking sleep out of his eyes. Can’t help but stare when he grabs him for dinner and catches him sitting in bed scribbling away at a drawing, legs drawn up, eyes focused. Can’t help but stare when he runs into him in the rec room leaning up against the arm of the couch, content as he reads.

“God have mercy on me,” he whines.

“What was that, Lance?” Keith asks, placing his pointer finger on a line on the page.

“Oh, nothing, Keith. Nothing at all.”

Lance can’t help the little fantasies that come to him in the middle of the night, either. Fantasies of him holding Keith as he sleeps, pulling him close and breathing in his warmth. Feeling the fabric of his clothes, the tangle of Keith’s legs between his. Cold nose pressing into Lance’s cheek.

Can’t help the fantasies of Keith pressing his lips to Lance’s own. Lance wonders how they would feel; soft and smooth, plump and warm. He catches himself staring at them when they look over a map of coalition planets, jerking back into focus as Keith snaps his fingers in front of him. Keith gives him a weird look and Lance can’t help his blush, saying he was distracted by a zit. Focusing is harder after that.

He imagines how Keith kisses. Looking up at his ceiling, unable to sleep, he bets that Keith would be passionate. Fiery and impatient and impulsive like he is with everything else, not holding back as he gives Lance all he has. Would he smile and laugh? Or would he be serious and silent? Lance bets it would be the second one. Keith was too moody and tough to be soft like that. A guy could dream, though.

Guilt chews at Lance as he lies in bed, daydreaming at midnight. He thinks about how creeped out Keith would be if he knew that he was thinking all this stuff. How freaked out he would get if he knew just how far down the roots of Lance’s infatuation went. Lance frowns to himself, picking at the sheets. This stuff had to end. His feelings were just unrealistic aside from the fact that they were inappropriate in the first place. They were on a team together that depended on the strength of their connection. What would happen if he and Keith were to date and break up? Or even if Keith didn’t share his feelings and wanted nothing to do with him? It was too risky. And just improbable. There were certain truths to the universe: humans need oxygen to live, galaxies are clusters of stars, stars are balls of gas. One of those truths was that Keith hated him, and that wasn’t about to change, even if Lance’s feelings had.

***

Lance nearly jumps for joy when Allura tells them about the ball. The Tetrans had decided to throw a celebration in their honor, inviting Team Voltron as well as delegates from neighboring planets. Inspired, they were ready to do all they could to fight back against the Galra and eager to join the coalition that Voltron was beginning to form. It was still in its rudimentary stages but growing: the Arusians, Oklari, Balmerans, and the Blade of Marmora added to their numbers across the universe, developing strongholds from galaxy to galaxy. Following the death of Zarkon the coalitions’ numbers had grown. It became easier to convince people to join their cause once they showed them that Voltron had a chance, and knowledge that the Altean princess still lived added fire to the spark. If King Alfor’s daughter could live 10,000 years, the universe could free itself from 10,000 years of tyranny.

A week had passed since Keith’s fainting episode, and the team was starting to get bored of hanging out in space. This ball sounded exactly like what they needed. Exactly what _Lance_ needed. This would mean new aliens to flirt with. New aliens to help him forget about Keith. He was sure he just needed some more romance in his life, then he could get over this infatuation and be on his merry way.

“Keep in mind that this event is not a break. It is vital that we convince the Tetrans to join our cause,” Allura said. “The universe can’t be won back if no one is willing to fight for it.”

“She’s right,” Shiro said. “The more allies we make, the closer we are to finishing this.”

“And the closer we are to going home,” Lance added.

“That’s right,” Allura said, nodding to him. “So it is important that we are all on our _best_ behavior.” She looked between him and Keith.

Keith scowled, pursing his lips.

With a sly grin, Lance threw his arm around Keith’s shoulders, pressing the sides of their heads to each other. “Don’t worry, Princess. Keith and I are like brothers now. Near death experiences really draw people together.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith shoved him off, skin hot where he touched him. “Will you ever let that go?” He said.

Lance gave him a wink.

The first order of business after that was finding something appropriate to wear. As much as Lance liked Keith’s go-go boots, he needed something a bit classier. 

"We’ll have to find you all some formal clothes,” Allura said, looking them up and down. Hey, their decision to leave Earth was very last minute. They hadn’t thought to pack extra stuff!

She brightened up. “No worries! This is a castle after all. We have to have formalwear lying around _somewhere.”_

“Of course, Princess!” Coran jumped in. “In fact, the paladins of old were gifted Altean suits from Alfor himself. Now, to find them!”

“Great,” Keith sighed. “Digging through millennia-old rags sounds like a blast.”

Shiro shot him a reprimanding look, but frowned down at himself. “We do need something else to wear other than this, though. We’re not exactly prepared for this kind of thing.”

“No kidding,” Pidge said, looking down at her khakis.

After an hour of looking, Coran finally found an old chest of dusty Altean formalwear. Inside of it were suits that didn’t look a day older than 9,999. Lance sat on the chest.

“Man all that digging around for _this?_ You know what, I don’t know why I’m disappointed. Not really sure what I was expecting.”

Keith sits down next to him, and Lance tries not to jump at the feeling of his arm pressed to his own.

_Get it together, Lance._

“I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right for once,” Keith says, and Lance shoots him an unamused look. “Look at how old this stuff is. We can’t wear this.” He holds up what seems to be a ratty stocking and wrinkles his nose.

 _Cute_ , Lance thinks.

“Don’t fret, Number Four,” Coran says. You’d be surprised with the magic this castle contains. The Alteans were known for their feats in technology as well as alchemy. You’re well acquainted with the healing pods, are you not? Well, hold onto your flurginators as I introduce you to _cleaning_ pods!” He sent them a crazed grin, then broke into a brisk walk down the hall. Keith turns to Lance and rolls his eyes with a smirk. He shrugs his shoulders and gets up, trailing in Coran’s wake, leaving Lance to try and control the beating of his heart.

In another abandoned room of the castle, the paladins find long tubes raised from the floor, not unlike the ones they found their armor in. Coran instructs them to take their ratty clothes and put them in the pods, assuring them that they’ll come out as good as new in an hour or so.

“I don’t know what Coran is thinking, man. One of those button downs had a hole in it, like, the size of that weird space rock I found last week,” Hunk said.

“It wasn’t a rock, Hunk,” Pidge sighs. “I told you it was a Olkarian petricube—“

“Looks like they’re done,” Shiro cut in, likely trying to avoid another episode of technobabble.

The pods opened, leaving the clothes to fall to the ground. Lance picks his up and winces. He didn’t think he was ready to commit such a sacrilege against fashion.

***

Lance grins at himself in the mirror, turning to the side to check out the _fine_ tailoring of his new suit. Coran had surprised them; these clothes were _nice._ He wore black pants that fit tight to his body, the material similar to their undersuits but sleeker and thinner. With them he wore black boots that climbed halfway up his calves. They added to the sharpness of the pants, showing off Lance’s _ass_ ets, if you knew what he meant.

Paired with that he wore what could be described as a tunic, the length of it falling past his lap and landing slightly above his knees. It was long-sleeved and soft, made of a light, cottony material. It fit snugly on his arms, showing off the slight width of them. Dark fabric stretched across his shoulders.

The color was a deep, navy blue, sleeves ending in black cuffs. A black sash stitched into the garment rested on his waist. Dipping down slightly towards his chest, the tunic’s neckline was shaped into a shallow V, showing off Lance’s collarbones and the brown of his skin. The fabric seemed to shimmer in the light as he moved, and Lance grinned. The ladies would be all over him tonight.

He looked _good._

Keith didn’t know what he was missing.

Giving himself one more once over, he left his room, heading over to Hunk’s across the hall.

“Check it out man,” he said, doing another turn-around, arms stretched wide.

Hunk grinned at him. “Looking good, Lance!” He said, clapping him on the shoulder. Hunk’s attire was similar to Lance’s, his shirt a bright yellow instead of an ocean blue. His orange headband was still wrapped tight around his forehead, the warm colors making him look like the human embodiment of sunshine.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself, Hunky-Bear. I bet the ladies will be flocking to you tonight,” Lance said with a grin, dragging out the word and emphasizing the _ck_ sound. 

He laughed and shook his head. “I bet there will be a lot of nice girl-aliens there. But I’m just wondering when we’re gonna go back to the Balmera—“

“I know, big guy. You only got eyes for Shay. She’s a lucky lady! You just gotta watch out for her brother,” Lance said.

Hunk blushed again, and the two of them walked towards the rec room to meet the others.

The other paladins wore clothes similar to Lance and Hunk’s, all reflecting the color of their lions. Shiro wore a thick sash across his right shoulder that stretched down to his left hip, similar to Kolivan’s. It was the unmistakable mark of a leader. The material was thick with black and dark gray stripes, it’s looseness accentuating the thickness of his arms underneath the tunic. Lance gave him a once-over and whistled.

“And I thought _I_ looked good.”

Shiro turned red and smiled. For a big, scary guy, he really was just a huge teddy bear. 

Allura and Coran came out next, the former wearing a long, flowing, light pink dress. Its length trailed behind her, the material glistening in the lights of the ship. On her neck she wore a white jewel that rested on her chest, skin smooth and perfect. The dress’ short sleeves made her dark arms look long and endless like the white hair she let flow down her back in thick waves. She smiled at them, teeth shining.

Lance zipped over to her faster than the speed of light, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it. Grinning, he looked up at her and winked.

“Looking beautiful as ever, Princess.”

Pidge groaned. What? Allura looked like a goddess and he was a weak man.

She laughed, the sound like wind chimes.

“Thank you, Lance. You clean up well.”

After that, it was a waiting game.

“What’s taking Mullet so _long_ ,” Lance whined, head leaned back against the couch and arms spread wide. “It doesn’t forever to brush your hair.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Keith said, walking into the room.

Lance looked up, eyes landing on him.

And he was sure his jaw dropped to the floor.

Keith stood in the center of the room, arms crossed. His pants and boots were like the others’, but he wore a loose, scarlet tunic that fell to his knees, the sleeves accented with crimson and gold. While Lance’s shirt was tight around his shoulders, Keith’s fell gently upon them, billowing out at his wrists and making them look delicate. The neckline was cut into a slight V like the other paladins’, but he wore a thin, scarlet band across his pale neck. His hair was tied into a bun, neat for probably the first time in history. Bangs fell onto his narrow face, cheekbones sharp and strong.

Lance’s brain felt like a toaster thrown in a bathtub. He was sure smoke would start coming out of his ears any second now.

Keith glared at him, defensive.

“What?” he asked.

“Uh,” Lance said.

Keith grit his teeth and curved his hands into fists, and of course he was still wearing those stupid gloves.

“If you’re going to make fun of me, Lance, I don’t want to hear it. You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

Lance shoved down the flash of pain at his words, narrowing his eyes.

“I was actually going to compliment you. I really like that hairstyle, you can’t tell how hideous your mullet is.”

Keith growled in frustration, and Lance smirked.

“Cool it, Keith,” Shiro jumped in. “Lance just got a little distracted.” His eyes flashed to Lance, lips spreading into a grin.

Heat burst in his face and he drew his shoulders up to his ears.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean!” He screeched.

Pidge and Hunk snickered to each other, and Allura raised a hand to cover her smile. Keith stared at them, brow furrowed.

“What are you freaking out about?” He asked.

Sometimes Lance was glad Keith was a moron.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave kudos or a comment if you liked it :)


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